


Strong, Stronger, Strongest

by shishcabob22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Sam, Angst, Depressed Dean Winchester, Drunk Dean, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Flashback, Gen, Michael!Dean, Possessed Dean, Season/Series 14 Speculation, Worried Sam, season 14 episode 10, worried cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 22:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shishcabob22/pseuds/shishcabob22
Summary: Season 14 episode 10 speculation (except I know this won't actually happen). They finally captured Michael, but Sam still doesn't know how he's going to help Dean.





	Strong, Stronger, Strongest

**Author's Note:**

> As we're all anxiously awaiting the end of hellatus, I thought I'd pass the time by providing this angsty little ficlet ;) Enjoy! 
> 
> (Italics mean either thoughts, emphasis, or flashbacks...hopefully the context makes it clear)

Cas wandered around the kitchen, moving through the simplistic steps of making coffee. Not for himself, of course: all coffee ever managed to do for him was develop a distant buzzing in his ears.

Once the coffee maker was successfully dripping dark brown liquid into a mug, Cas sat down at the table, hands clasped in his lap. There was a certain emptiness to the room, one that brought back painful memories of earlier that year. And here they were again. Cas sighed.

It was the repetition of a vicious cycle. One brother gone, and the other tore himself apart trying to get his missing piece back. Cas squeezed his hands tighter together. Not just trying. They would get Dean back—that much, the angel was sure of.

The ironic part was that they had Dean right there in the bunker with them. Only it wasn't really _Dean_ , just his body, his vessel. What they really needed was a way to reach Dean, or even better, eject Michael altogether.

But they’d been hitting dead ends for a few days, and while they did have a notable lead, they had to wait for Ketch to get back to them before they could do anything with it. Cas didn’t like it much himself, but Sam was poring uselessly over information they’d reviewed a thousand times. It’d been a while since Cas was human, but he recognized when someone needed a break.

The coffee was finally done, and Cas carefully carried the cup over to the library.

Except Sam wasn’t there anymore. And he wasn't in the war room, either, or in any of the dorms, for that matter.

Cas let out an exasperated sigh as he hurried toward the dungeon. Why did all Winchesters have to be so thick-headed?

* * *

Sam tapped his fingers against the table impatiently. He'd been digging through the bunker's library and reaching out to every contact he had two days now, searching for a way to help Dean. Ketch thought he might have something, but when Sam eagerly asked for details, he simply replied that he was "looking into it." Stubborn Brits.

Sam rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear the bleariness from them. He was tired, but he couldn't stop now. Dean needed him. Dean was _right there_ , but Sam couldn't help him, and his brother needed him.

_"He'll be nice and quiet for a change. And he is. He's gone."_

Sam stood up then, running his fingers though his hair. He couldn't just do nothing. He'd avoided talking to Michael one-on-one the two days they'd had him here--he knew the archangel would try to mess with his head. But dammit, there wasn't anything else he could do! Who knew when or if Ketch would surface with anything useful, and Dean was _drowning_ in there.

He had to do something.

It wasn't a long walk from the library to the archive room, and soon Sam was staring at the doors behind which Michael was trapped. _Restrained_ , Sam reminded himself.

He opened the doors.

The first thing he noticed was that the chair wasn't where it had been, in the middle of the cell. Instead, it was pushed into one of the far corners, facing the wall for no particular reason. Facing the same wall, was Michael.

From the back, Sam could almost pretend that Michael's vessel wasn't Dean at all, just some guy with darkish hair in a three piece suit. But when he heard the voice, it was unmistakable. Michael was humming something, soft and melodic. His hands were chained behind him, fingers lightly tapping together in some sort of irregular rhythm.

Sam cautiously made his way into the cell, letting the doors slam shut behind him. Michael didn't even twitch at the noise, continuing his inspection of the wall before him.

The humming stopped abruptly. "Hello, Sam."

Sam forced himself to hold his ground, not to flinch at the cold unfamiliarity in Dean's voice. He swallowed convulsively.

Michael turned his head to the side, so half of his-- _not his_ \--face was in shadow. "Come to gloat? Or are you trying to intimidate me?"

Sam took a deep breath, tried to keep his voice from shaking. "Dean, I need you to--"

"Dean?" Michael turned to face Sam fully, eyes burning blue with grace. "You'd think a Winchester could take a hint."

Michael walked forward then, somehow both leisurely and inhumanly stiff. The chains anchoring the archangel to the wall pulled taut, stopping him in the middle of the room. "Do you know where Dean is right now?" He asked mockingly. "He's cowering, buried deep in his own mind because he can't stand his own failure. He can't fight me, and he _won't_ fight me."

Sam had taken an involuntary step back as Michael approached, and for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off that stupid part in Dean's hair. A smile curled the edges of Dean's lips. "What, cat got your tongue?"

"You're lying," Sam managed, but it sounded weak, even to him.

Michael's smile grew. "Oh, am I?"

Sam grit his teeth. "Dean's stronger than you. He's the strongest person I know, and he's gonna beat you. _We're_ gonna beat you."

Michael strolled up to the wall on Sam's left, eyes narrowing as he traced a pattern only he could see. His fingers were tapping against each other in that irregular rhythm again. "You know, I can see inside his head. Inside his soul, if you will. He's not nearly as strong as you think he is," Michael said casually.

_"I wasn't strong enough," Dean slurred._

_Sam had gone to check on his brother, not three days after they'd gotten him back, only to find that Dean wasn't hiding out in his room like he had been. Instead, Sam stumbled onto his brother in the garage, leaned up against the Impala's front wheel, pouring what seemed to be the last of a third or fourth bottle of whiskey into his glass._

_Dean looked up at Sam, eyes red and unfocused. "You 'ere strong enough, Sammy. I was never strong 'nuff."_

_Sam crouched down next to his brother, gently taking the glass from his fumbling hands. "What are you talking about, Dean?"_

_"With Lucifer," Dean clarified, and Sam couldn't help but flinch a little. "You beat 'im. Sammy was always stronger," Dean mumbled to himself._

_Sam let out a shuddering breath. "Come on, Dean, let's get you inside, okay?" He grabbed Dean underneath his arms and hauled him to his feet, beginning the arduous process of dragging his brother back to his room._

_Dean struggled to get his feet beneath him, and it would have been funny except it wasn't. "This 'appens every time, ya know that? In Hell, an' with the Mark, an' with Amara, an' with Michael. I guess Dad'd be pretty disappointed, huh?"_

_Sam stopped their journey to the bunker door, shaking Dean by the shoulders. "Dean, you listen to me. You are the strongest person I know, okay? You made it through all that, when no one else would have. Dad would be stupid not to be proud. You hear me, Dean?"_

_Dean's eyes lazily rolled up to meet Sam's. "Whatever, Sammy."_

_Sam had managed to get Dean back to his room. He didn't see his brother for a week after that._

Sam hated, _hated_ that Dean compared his experience to what happened with Lucifer. Sam had Dean with him, _Dean_ was the reason he'd had the strength to beat the devil, couldn't he see that?

Michael had moved to the wall on Sam's right, seemingly content to let Sam stand there wordlessly. One of his immaculately polished shoes had taken up the rhythm, tapping dully against the concrete floor.

"Dean's stronger than he knows," Sam said quietly. "And I'm gonna find a way to save him."

"I'm afraid you won't get the chance to do that, Sam." Sam's head jerked up. Michael's eyes were burning again, and the walls around them lit up with white-blue symbols. Sam only had time to think _warding_ before the images were melting from the wall and the chains were snapping from Michael's wrists. Suddenly the angel was right in front of Sam, holding him up by his throat. "Dean says hi, by the way."

The edges of Sam's vision were starting to go black, his world narrowing down to the glowing eyes in front of them. "Dean," he choked.

The burning eyes seemed to flicker for a moment, but then the doors were bursting open and Cas was storming into the dungeon. Michael grinned at them. "Until next time, boys."

There was a flutter of wings, and he was gone.

Sam crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. Cas rushed to kneel next him, holding him up by the shoulders. "Sam, what happened?"

Sam looked up at Cas, his friend's face blurring through tears of frustration and anger and grief. "We lost him, Cas."

He couldn't keep Michael here, because he couldn't see the signs and _he_ _wasn't strong enough._

"I lost him."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I'm happy with how this turned out, but it was fun to write! I know it's not my best work, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway...even with that truly evil ending. Sorry/not sorry ;) Let me know what you think in the comments!


End file.
